


But You're Still Alive (And I'm Here)

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, D&D AU, Developing Friendships, Family, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it, Loosely based off of events in the SMP, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tommy is only tall because he's half elf, Trauma, Travel, Violence, War, Whump, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, lots of death, very loosely though - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tommy and Wilbur, half-siblings, each have their own motivations for going to the elven kingdom. Wilbur, the uninspired bard, wants to spin new tales and rediscover his love for writing songs. Tommy, the half-elf, is searching for his mother. They never expected to end up in the middle of two warring nations. They especially didn't expect to lose so much.Or in other words, an MCYT fantasy AU (with D&D races).VERY SLOW UPDATES. THEY ARE COMING, BUT VERY SLOWLY
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 6





	But You're Still Alive (And I'm Here)

Usually, plucky lute music was something Tommy looked forward to, or at least didn’t care about. Today, he wanted to rip his ears out.

“Wilbur, I swear to god.”

Wilbur looked up from his notebook, his hands frozen mid-strum.

“What?”  
“Just, I have a headache.”

Setting his lute down beside him, he jotted something down. Then, he packed his notebook back into the satchel around his waist.

“We should probably head out anyway. The sooner we start crossing the forest, the sooner you can sleep in a proper bed.”  
Tommy sighed, and pinched his brow as another wave of migraine hit. “If we can even afford to stay at an inn.”  
“If we can, yes.”

Of course, Tommy often went long stretches without a secure place to rest, it came with travelling. That didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna complain about it.

He watched his half-brother sling his lute over his shoulder. They’d met later in life than most siblings. Even so, Tommy liked having him around. He hadn’t known his dad. Wilbur had. At first, that had been the only thing keeping them together.

Wilbur had his own motivations for taking such a trip. Before leaving their hometown, he'd complained that nothing interesting ever happened. He claimed that boredom was a bard's greatest weakness, and that he'd told every story he could tell. He needed to leave the nest.

Tommy gave only two shits about that though. Sure, he cared about Wilbur, but his quest to be re-inspired felt trivial compared to what Tommy was after.

Even so, he had to admit travelling wasn’t so bad.

And as usual, thoughts of travel came with thoughts of their destination. The Elven Kingdom. When the ends of his ears reached their pointed tip, Tommy knew his mother had to be an elf. He had the height too.

He’d heard many stories of young travellers searching for a missing parent. They filled libraries and the mutters on the streets as people came and left. Most ended with no conclusion. Even so, it wasn’t hard to be optimistic. From what he’d heard, elves were welcoming to their half-elf children. Their hostility toward the human parent was another story. He hoped that upon arriving, he could talk to the locals and they’d help him out. Hell, his mother might even be looking for him.

He didn’t want to get ahead of himself though, so he focused on the most present issue. The forest.

Without a guide, the forest was considered nearly uncrossable. It was filled to the brim with magical beings, some passive, some hostile. Even the trees could be considered dangerous. Some travellers testified that the trees whispered promises to them, calling them to abandon their course. Those who give in come out so deluded they end up mercy killed, if they hadn’t walked themselves into death yet. Tommy hoped he and Wilbur could keep each other accountable.

Wilbur put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You ready?”  
Tommy took in a breath, “Yeah.”

It was darker then he’d expected, much darker than any forest he’d been in prior.

Hours of walking made Tommy’s feet ache. He’d asked to stop earlier, yet Wilbur insisted that stopping in the forest was unsafe.

Everything looked the same. There were no particular landmarks, so Tommy couldn’t be sure they were even moving forward. It was demotivating to say the least.

Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s arm, and he jumped. They held eye contact for a second but it was clear he wasn’t focused on what was in front of him.

His head whipped left, “Fundy?”

For a moment, Tommy’s heart was on the ground.

Wilbur let go of him, taking a few steps toward the bush.

“Fundy’s in there Tommy,” Wilbur whispered, “He can’t be in there, it’ll destroy him.”

“What?” Tommy asked, “Wilbur, he’s not there.”  
“I can hear him, he’s hurt,” he insisted, “Fundy!”

He took another step toward the bush, and Tommy grabbed him, “The forest is playing tricks on you. Snap out of it.”

“No, no, this isn’t trees playing tricks, it’s real. I can hear him, like really hear him. It’s him. We can’t just stay here and do nothing. He needs me.”  
“I can’t hear him. It’s the forest Wilbur. I promise it’s the forest. You have to trust me.”  
“Then listen,” he snapped, “You’ll hear him if you listen.”

Tommy listened.  
Nothing.

“See!” Wilbur said, “He’s in there.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Wilbur froze, listening, before ripping himself out of Tommy’s grip, making a break for it. As he ran, the ground started to shake, before roots erupted. They wrapped around Wilbur’s ankles, holding him in place. It startled Tommy so much he forgot to scream.

The source of the roots became clear when he turned around.

A boy around his age was standing behind him, hands extended in the direction of the roots. He had ashy brown hair, and was short, especially compared to Tommy’s elven height. The most peculiar thing about the boy however, was the bark. It looked like it was growing out of his skin. It covered the left half of his neck, and stretched all the way up to his cheek. He flashed him a smile.

Another boy, much taller than the first, stood just behind him. His hair was blonde, with leaves and sticks of various colours peeking out between curls.

“Who’s Fundy?” he asked, clearly curious as opposed to wary.  
“Did you-?” Tommy asked.  
“Sorry, I may have overstepped. It just looked like you couldn’t keep him back and, you know. It’s dangerous.”  
“No, it’s appreciated. Thanks man.”  
“I’m Tubbo.”  
“Tommy.”  
“Who’s Fundy?” The other boy repeated.  
“That’s Sam,” Tubbo explained.  
“That’s Wilbur.”

Wilbur shook at the sound of his name, holding eye contact with Tubbo. With bloodshot eyes, and tear stained cheeks, he screeched. Tommy backed away.

“What’s happening to him?”  
“It’s normal,” Sam explained, “It’ll pass in like, half an hour.”

Half an hour was longer than he wanted to stay, but leaving Wilbur behind was not an option. The two plant boys exchanged a look.

“Who is Fundy?” Tubbo asked.

His name made Wilbur’s feral posture shift to that of a grieving, angry father.

“My son!” His voice strained, as though he had to drag the words of his dry throat.  
“Awfully young to be a parent,” Sam remarked.  
“He’s older than he looks.”

Time seemed to move at a snail's pace. It didn’t help that when the small talk finished, the only sounds were Wilbur’s screaming, begging, and crying. It filled Tommy’s head with an unpleasant buzz.

At least, that’s what he thought at first. Eventually, the buzz got louder. As it grew in volume, it gained clarity.

“Turn back Tommy,” one voice said.  
“People will die if you leave this forest.”  
More and more voices piled on, each making it harder to function.  
“What’s going on?”  
“It’s not worth meeting your mother Tommy.”  
“It’ll be all your fault.”  
“Tommy?”

He blinked, and Sam was crouching in front of him. He wiped a tear from Tommy’s face. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying.

Sam continued to speak, but the promises echoing in his ears drowned everything out. He knew it was the forest. It had to be, but it still hurt his brain, and overwhelmed all his senses.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he was on a horse.

He was beyond disoriented, but it wasn’t the first time. He had some idea of what to do. So before asking questions, he did his best to pick up what he could.

They were definitely still in the forest and most importantly, still on the path. He was strapped to the saddle, and had been resting on a bag. When he tried to sit up, he couldn’t. He was secure to the horse.

Wilbur sat in front of him, holding the reins. That ruled out kidnapping, but opened up so many more questions.

To his right, there was another horse. Directing it was Tubbo, with Sam seated behind him. They were slightly ahead, probably leading the way. That made sense at least. 

“‘Ey,” Tommy finally spoke, “Can someone let me out of this, it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable.”

All eyes were on him now.

“You’re up!” Wilbur halted the horse.

Sam jumped off Tubbo’s horse and took the reins from Wilbur, who rounded to untie Tommy. He stretched, groaning as his whole back ached.

“Where’d these horses come from?” He asked, giving the brown stead a friendly pat.  
“Our home was pretty close by,” Tubbo explained, pulling a pear out of his pocket and feeding it to his horse.  
“Horses are a pretty hot commodity, how’d you get the money?”  
He shrugged, “They were just kinda here, probably got left behind by a traveller.”  
“You live here?” Wilbur asked.  
“Born and raised,” Sam brushed his hands off on his pants, “It’s why I can do-”

He snapped, and a moss moustache grew above his lip.

“This.”  
“Wow.” Tommy pressed his lips together, “Impressive.”  
“Hey!” he pouted, “At least druids have magic. Beats anything an elf can do.”  
“So you’re druids?”  
“Forest druids,” Sam bragged, “In my opinion, the best kind. What can a meadow druid do that a forest druid can’t? And we get fancy bark powers too.”  
Tubbo pulled at the collar of his shirt, clearly uncomfortable, “We best be on the move, the sun’s setting.”

Once again, Tommy’s attention was brought to the bark that grew from Tubbo’s face and neck. When Tubbo caught him staring, he hopped back on the horse and averted his gaze. Neither commented on it.

The edge of the forest was abrupt and unnatural, but Tommy was glad to see it nonetheless. Grassy fields stretched far, but he could see the faint outline of a city on the horizon. A lone fox eye’d them with curiosity. He hopped off the horse and prepared for the inevitable miles he was gonna have to walk to reach their next stop. Abusurnada.

“Absurnada? What’s in Absurnada?” Sam asked.  
“Tieflings for one,” Wilbur explained, “And a warm place to sleep.”  
He gave both Wilbur and Tommy curious glances, “Surely you aren’t just travelling for the sake of travelling.”  
“I’m trying to find inspiration for a new song,” he said, “and Tommy-”  
“I’m just tagging along. You know, he’s not the smartest and I’m not sure I want to lose a brother. He needs me.”

Though he spoke confidently, it was clear nobody believed him.

“Can I come?” Sam kept the conversation moving regardless. Tubbo turned quickly on his heels, eyes wide.  
“I mean, if you’d like.” Wilbur shrugged, “But you have to understand the risk in joining us. You’ll have to hold your own, and pay for what you need.”  
“Yeah, yeah, not an issue!”  
“Um,” Tubbo spoke, “Slight issue. Are you sure about this?”

He stared up at the sky, marvelling at the stars, “You can’t see the sky from the forest.”

“And?”  
“And I like the sky.”

Tommy was baffled to say the least. The fact that Wilbur hadn’t even thought to consult him before letting people join the party ticked him off. This was as much his quest as it was Wilbur’s. It was supposed to be them, as brothers.

“The sky is pretty,” Tubbo muttered.

That’s how their group ended up doubling in size. It seemed everyone had a say in it but him.

Absurnada buzzed with visitors. Even though most of the residents were tieflings, they were few and far between. It instilled a strange atmosphere. The shopping district was colourful and bright. Lanterns shone with fire of many colours, which reflected off the crystal storefront windows. It coated the stone brick streets with colours he’d never seen before.

It did nothing to ease his migraine.

And on top of the dizzying light show, the locals he did see were shouting, laughing, even singing. They called out to travellers, encouraging them to stop by their store.

The worst was that he was the only one not enjoying himself. Sam was awestruck. In fact, Tommy didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so excited, and for what? The vibrant air was cool and all, but they needed to eat and the vendors there were expensive. Any well seasoned traveller would know to avoid tourist stops. You’d be much better off buying what the locals buy.

But Sam and Tubbo were not seasoned travellers, and it took more energy than Tommy had to convince them to abandon the candied peaches and buttered orange rinds. Thankfully, Wilbur finally caught onto Tommy’s frustration, and insisted they find somewhere more humble. 

It was easy to get lost in the winding streets of Absurnada. They stacked on top of each other, lacing over and under to fill a large ravine that split the town in half.

“For fucks sake,” Tommy groaned.  
Wilbur kept his eyes on the road, and hands on the reins, “I know.”

The street lights in the main part of the town were all a muted purple. The houses that lined the streets were identical to each other, and every corner they turned led them to an identical view.

“You look lost.”

A light blue tiefling had stepped out from an alleyway. He gave them a friendly wave.

“Where’re you tryna go?”

Tommy dropped his shoulders, taking in a large breath of air. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

“Is there a tavern near here?” Wilbur asked.  
“Oh,” he clasped his hands together, “Not really. Do you want me to take you to the nearest one?”  
“That would be wonderful.” Tubbo relaxed.

The blue tiefling took the reins of Wilbur and Tommy’s stead, and led them down a couple of side streets. At first, the route put Tommy on edge, but his worries eased when they ended up on a much larger street. It was nowhere near as colourful as the shopping district, but it was warm and welcoming. Nobody was out, but the moon was high in the sky, and he couldn’t blame them for sleeping.

“Take your pick from here. I guarantee all the taverns will do you good.”  
“Thank you.” Tommy meant it with every fibre of his being. Nothing mattered more to him than eating a good meal, and settling in a real bed, on a real mattress.

They all dismounted the horses, and Wilbur took the reins from the tiefling.

“Hey George!” Another tiefling, this one being orange, practically bounced over, completely throwing Tommy off guard. He clicked his tongue as he pet one of the horses. “Hey beautiful.”

A third tiefling joined him, his green face hidden by a white ceramic mask with a face poorly scribbled onto it. Tommy couldn’t figure out how he saw through it.

George shifted uncomfortably, “Hi Sapnap.”

A look passed between them, and Sapnap’s posture changed. If Tommy hadn’t been looking for it, he would’ve missed the tiny eye roll. The green tiefling didn’t miss the exchange either.

“You’d better be off,” he warned, “George may be sweet, but at this time of night trustworthy people are few and far between.”

“You’re right about that.”

All three tieflings flinched as a fourth appeared from behind a barrel. This one was purple and blue, adorned in red and pink accessories. They held themself with dignity, and towered over all of them. Even Tommy felt small under their gaze.

Behind him, Sam squeaked, and lowered his head.

“Your majesty-” Sapnap started, only to get silenced by one sharp glance.  
“Off you go,” they dismissed.

The three bowed, before scurrying into an unlit alley.

The remaining tiefling sighed, and pinched their brow, “Did they take anything from you?”  
“I don’t think so?” Wilbur patted his pockets.

They scanned the group, before locking their white eyes on Tubbo.

“You’re far from the forest.”  
“You’re far from your castle,” he countered, “King Eret.”

A small smile formed on Eret’s serious face, and they nodded toward a building to their left, “Let’s head inside. Drinks on me.”


End file.
